The Stranger
by The Water Daemon
Summary: One Grundo's point of view concerning the invasion of Sloth in their home planet. Epilogue posted 8/19/02. COMPLETE.
1. Water

Author's Note: Lookee here, I decided to write another Neopets fic. XP This one is a lot more tame than my last fic. In any case.Neopets doesn't belong to me, but the concept for this fic does. If by some strange coincidence my fic sounds like your earlier-published fic, I swear, it's a total coincidence. O.o But don't steal my idea either. ;.; Or I will cry. And kill you. Simultaneously. Besides, who would be stupid enough to do that? XD  
  
  
  
Memories are painful little things. They're much like a splinter-easy to forget for a moment, yet deciding to sting at the most inconvenient time. They are also difficult to remove without going through some large amount of pain, if for a short amount of time-but perhaps that is where memories and splinters stop their similarities. For while a splinter can be permanently removed, only leaving a scar behind, memories remain within your brain, in a constant safe which can be locked but will invariably be reopened, revisited. You cannot help yourself-since you constantly have the key within you, you will eventually subside to the temptation and open that can of worms all over again. It is the sad nature of the sentient mind.  
  
And these are the memories that remain inside of me, locked in my mind but seeping through the cold safes that I have built and leaking into my heart, affecting my mind to open the safes and relive the experience, relish in its brief glory, only to be brought down hard as I ever was before. But no matter how hard I try to break the abusive cycle, I fall back into it without fail. Maybe I like the internal pain-or maybe I just want to cling to her memories, never wanting to tell myself that he was truly gone, abolished from the way I remembered him. That old version of him lives on in my mind-as long as I remember, he will never fade.  
  
But it was all a lie, wasn't it? All a façade that I was unable to see through in my childish naiveté. I should've listened to my father-to the Elder Miltiades. To all the other Grundo seers I should've given my ear and pulled away from him before I was permanently scarred. But I bid them no mind-besides, what could happen to an invincible adolescent such as myself? I sigh in anguish as I look back at those days, the red sun burning huge in the sky, so similar to his eyes, and I chastise myself: why hadn't I seen it coming, after all of the evidence before me?  
  
I do not expect you to know what I am talking about-for you really know very little of the story of how Grundos came to the planet of Neopia. Although you may cuddle one and claim it as your pet, rest assured you cannot possibly know our history in full, for it has been heavily guarded by the remaining seers of our species, including myself. A seer, you may ask. What is that? Simple. We are the chosen of our species-while the majority of Grundos are dim and dull-witted, if loving, perfect for pets, we are the cautious ones, our intelligence challenging even brilliant human minds, rebellious to any kind of slavery, or "ownership," and thus are absolutely dreadful pets. We are nearly two different species. However, seers have been nominally depleted from the Grundo population. No Neopian wants a pet who does not want to be ordered around by them. I am one of the last of our surviving kind, and they call me Citali, brightest of the stars.  
  
We are the ones to remember our home planet, the ones who remember the terrible events that were brought to it by an outward force-a single entity pained with isolation which brewed to hatred and darkness. Him. We were the ones to guide our population through the coming millennia, the millennia destined for destruction, although we knew not the magnitude. And I, in my young foolishness, was not prepared to do so, and befriended, fell for, the very man who would crush our species with the iron fist of technology. He was our White Horseman, a conqueror to conquer, with a long bow, yet no arrows. And conquer he did.  
  
But no-the story cannot be started at the middle, nor the end. I must start from the very beginning, on our home planet. The memory is fresh as a new splinter, digging deeper into my mind daily. I was only a teenager then, but still 'bubbling with potential,' as Elder Miltaides had said. I was practicing emotion control, a rather difficult skill to be mastered by all seers, when something suddenly intruded in my thoughts: a rather desperate cry for help, coming not from the ground, but from above, reverberating through my mind as if it were a metallic chasm. The voice did not yell in our language, but still in one which I could understand- frantically, and growing louder.  
  
Not able to concentrate on my studies, I leapt from the chair I had been sitting on and began to head outside, temporarily blinded by the sunlight. My father hadn't seen me interrupt my studies yet, so I was fine for now, if doing something I wasn't supposed to. Shielding my eyes against the orange sun, I looked up into the sky where the call seemed to come from- and lo and behold, within the yellow sky flamed a small object, growing increasing larger. My eyes widened in fright-meteorites frequently breached our atmosphere, but they were usually reduced to miniscule sizes as they came through. This one, however, did not seem to be getting any smaller, but brighter, and much larger.  
  
I gave a little cry of alarm, and then raced back inside, my heart thundering in my chest, shouting loudly through the Great Hall of Seers, most likely awakening many from soothing trances. "Meteor! Meteor!" I cried, pounding on every door I came across. In no time flat, I had aroused most of the seers within the Great Hall, most grumbling Grundian swears under their breath, rubbing their foreheads. Finally, my father's head poked out of his doorway, an exhausted look on his brown-colored face.  
  
"Citali, what are you doing?" he asked, his irritation and embarrassment apparent, as brown slowly ebbed to a flush of red on his face. I grabbed him by the hands, squeezing them tightly. I tried to express my anxiety as well as I could to him, but my father was almost as unlikely to be surprised as Elder Miltiades.  
  
"Daddy, there's something in the sky.a meteor. It's approaching quickly, and it's not getting any smaller.and I know this sounds strange, but I can sense that there's someone in it," I said, my voice loud enough to be heard by the rest of the seers. There were a few scattered grunts of reactions, and my father shook his head, smiling slightly. He rubbed one of my ear stalks affectionately.  
  
"Are you sure, sweetness?"  
  
"Positive," I said flatly, disliking being treated like a little child. He always did that too-he seemed unable to accept that I was getting older, and thus needed more freedom. "If you want to see for yourself." Other seers were already out the door, probably figuring that if she had enough reason to shake us from our concentration, we may as well check it out too. My father, seeing that others didn't seem to doubt me, nodded. I grabbed his hand by the wrist and began almost dragging him towards the door, a baffled look on his face.  
  
By the time we were outside, a crowd of seers had formed, looking up at the sky, their hands visoring their eyes. Many snorts of astonishment could be heard as they saw the meteor coming closer as well. The murmurings seemed to die down, however, as three Grundos appeared from the Great Hall. The two on the outside of the group were black and white, and I recognized the white one was Prakash and the black as Shyam, two rather minor seers. However, they were supporting the greatest seer that Grundian culture had ever seen: Elder Miltiades.  
  
"What is this talk about meteors, Aditya?" asked Elder Miltiades calmly as the three approached my father. My father gave a heave of his shoulder, and then picked up Elder Miltiades' withered hand, pointing it towards the sky. The old Grundo seer's eyes lifted up to the sky, but it was apparent he couldn't see a thing-the cataracts in his red eyes blocked out any light that would offer him eyesight.  
  
"Up there is a falling meteor-approaching quickly. Will it hit the village?" my father asked, although his voice did not seem supremely concerned. Elder Miltiades' face screwed into one of deep thought, his wrinkles seeming to deepen, especially on his forehead. Prakash and Shyam gave worried looks to each other, but did not speak. In fact, I couldn't honestly say I had ever seen either of them speak, although rumor had it Prakash had a thing for me. Disgusting.  
  
"Do not worry-it will not strike, nor threaten, the village. It will land within the Grundian Pond to the west," replied Elder Miltiades, putting down his arm. "We have nothing to fear. Leave it be."  
  
"We can't!" I protested, urgency in my voice. I grasped the old Grundo's hand, and it was apparent by the look on my father's face that he did not approve of my directness. I ignored him for the time being. "There's something inside of the meteor, Elder Miltiades. I..I can't say exactly what it is, but it's organic, and it needs help. If it lands within that pond, whatever is inside will surely suffocate, because I don't believe that it's aquatic."  
  
Elder Miltiades scanned my face with his blind eyes, his hand lifting up to stroke my cheek. "Dear Citali.the child of the stars. You are just as vibrant and brilliant as ever. Yes, I feel it now as well, as I concentrate- I feel the desperation of the organism inside." He pulled his hand away from my face and had Prakash and Shyam turn him in the direction of the rest of the Grundo seers. "My fellow seers, when this meteor lands, we must retrieve it from the water. Meanwhile, we must let the villagers in peace- we cannot let them be concerned. All those who have passed the Tests will come with me to the pond to retrieve the meteor-the rest shall calm the villagers, if they had caught sight of this meteor." An uncomfortable mumble ran through the crowd. As a rule, Grundos severely dislike water-we do not know how to swim, nor do we need water to sustain life. "Now, let us go!"  
  
The Grundos parted like water to Moses' hand, some heading in the direction of the village, and the rest going towards the water. They would not need ropes or any other device to lift the meteor from the water-if they had truly passed the Tests, they would be able to use a community of their minds to lift the sunken meteor from the water. As Elder Miltiades and my father began to move in the direction of the pond, I again stopped them, not wanting to go to the village because of my inexperience and lack of having passed the Tests.  
  
"Daddy, please don't make me go to the village," I pleaded, my eyes as innocent as possible. "I was the one who spotted the meteor after all- don't I have some kind of duty to see that it's recovered from the pond?"  
  
"Citali, you're pushing it," he said under his breath, giving me a warning glance. Elder Miltiades, much to my relief, seemed to have a different view on the matter.  
  
"Oh, Aditya, you are already becoming a grumpy old Grundo," chuckled Elder Miltiades, my father's face again leaning more towards the red end of the spectrum. "Let the girl come with-she has a right to see what she discovered, after all." My father reluctantly agreed. A smile spread across my face, joy blossoming in my heart. Elder Miltiades had stood up for me! Well, it was probably due more to the fact that I had gained special privileges that others my age wouldn't have access too, but that was also a factor as well.  
  
The meteor was ever-closer as we came to the pond, which appeared to be large enough to take the shock of the meteor landing inside of it. In fact, it was argued whether it was a pond or a sea-for it was certainly large enough to gain the title of such. We waited, watching the sky for the flaming meteor, the cries becoming louder. I rung my hands at the sound of the suffering, sweat dripping down my forehead. I wanted to scream out with the voice, the tone affecting me so completely, striking me at the heart. I restrained myself, however, remembering the emotion control I had been practicing, though it hardly helped a bit.  
  
With a suddenness, the meteor seemed to expand in size, every little detail visible for a fleeting moment. Then, it plunged into the deep, cold water, letting up a spray of water droplets and foam, bursting into the air, a great pillar of water. Many Grundo seers winced and pulled away from the liquid, but I stood steady, not minding too much that I was getting drenched. The pillar of water seemed suspended in the air for a second, but then pummeled back down to the surface of the water. As if breeching for a great gasp of air, the silver meteor bobbed up to the surface, proving to all that it was indeed a hollow object.  
  
At closer inspection, it did not seem to be made of any material known to any Grundo. It was silver in color, and mostly smooth, except for a few lumps here and there, mostly circular, and red things made of a softer looking material. There was a patch of a transparent material on the side in an oval shape, but nothing could be seen clearly through it, as it had been greatly clouded when facing the atmosphere. Most noticeable was a rectangular area, framed by many circles and deep crevices in the silver material, which was slightly blackened from being burned. I assumed that this would probably be our door, as it had something like a door handle on it, painted in vibrant red. An eerie noise came from the object-it sounded slightly like a music instrument, but frantic, a tapping coming from within the meteor.  
  
"All seers gather around now-we will lift this object from the water and place it on shore, whereupon we will open it and rescue whatever happens to be inside," instructed Elder Miltiades, still a great leader in his old age. "All hold hands!" he ordered, and those who had passed the Tests stood at the edge of the shore. I stepped backwards, a bit embarrassed, as hands were linked together in front of me. Although I felt slightly left out, I knew I was still lucky to be able to watch as the seers showed their power linked all together.  
  
Each and every Grundo seer closed their eyes, already deep in concentration. Elder Miltiades began the chant, which moved on to the Grundo seer next to him, and so on. It spread throughout the chain of Grundo seers, until not a single Grundo seer was left silent. The chant's beat vibrated in my chest, and I felt obligated to join in, although I did not know the words. Somehow, they seemed to come to me, though, yet I repressed them, knowing that I was not allowed to do such a thing. The air shivered with their words, and a great pulse of energy seemed to flow from all of the Grundo seers towards the meteor, cradling it as a mother Grundo would do an infant. Ever so slowly, almost painstakingly so, it began to rise from the water, as if it were given new life. The chant grew louder as it took more energy to lift it into the air, transferring it over their heads and towards the shore. I watched in absolute awe, backing up as the meteor began to be lowered in front of me, never jerking or faltering from its path. It finally rested on the ground, hardly unsettling a blade of grass or a grain of dust.  
  
The chant continued even after the meteor had been set down, slowly fading as one by one the Grundo seers began to stop singing, until only Elder Miltiades was left singing the chant. Slowly, though, his voice vanished to nothing, and all opened their eyes simultaneously, grins infectious among them. I wore one myself, unable to contain my excitement. Although it might have been common practice for the seers, it still was exhilarating, sending chills up my spine every time I saw levitation in action.  
  
After a moment of stillness, the Grundo seers quickly got back into action, heading towards the meteor to inspect it on land. They all seemed to look around for one single Grundo as they took one look at the door-this Grundo seer finally emerged from the crowds. Ah, yes, I remembered him now. Although relatively weak in mind compared to other Grundo seers, Baldev was a very muscle-happy Grundo seer, very proud of his built figure. He was slightly arrogant, but nobody seemed to mind, as he did most of the heavy duty lifting around the village.  
  
"Not a problem," he said with a conceited snort, and flexing his muscles, he leapt atop the meteor, which wiggled just slightly underneath him, though not putting up much of a fight. Grabbing the red handle securely, he began to twist it in a random direction, giving a long groan of effort. The handle seemed at first to resist his strength, but then gave in, squeaking loudly. With a pop, it opened very suddenly, throwing Baldev backwards, off the meteor. I hid a smile underneath a hand. Baldev was not one to look very foolish, and he was clearly a bit embarrassed, brushing himself off. "Well, there you have it," he muttered under his breath, and tried to sink back into the crowds.  
  
Without any other physical contact, the door began to open by itself, slamming to one side. From inside emerged the figure who would be our ultimate doom-although at that moment, he looked rather pathetic, gasping and sputtering for air, his red eyes darting around, though not seeming to see a single one of us. "Oxygen.sweet oxygen." he moaned in ecstasy, his eight green fingers grasping tightly to the sides of the doorway as he inhaled and exhaled rapidly. For a moment, he paused, seeming to still in life completely, and then tipped backwards, fainting, falling back inside of the meteor.  
  
It took Baldev and two other Grundo seers to drag his dead weight out of the meteor, finally lying him on the ground. We all looked at him in disbelief, rubbing out eyes at the new specimen of life. He was at least twice the height of a normal Grundo, although slimmer comparatively. We estimated he would've stood at about 20 Grundo hands, a Grundo hand equally roughly four inches. His skin was a green color equivalent to that of a green Grundo's skin, but instead of two ear stalks, it appeared he had three. Yet these ear stalks were peculiar-they did not seem to be a likely spot to have sound enter. His eyes, as we had seen, were red, and he only possessed eight digits in total. Over his body he wore what seemed to be black sheets, the only thing slightly white on these sheets a small notch near his neck, or what we presumed to be so.  
  
"What.is it?" one Grundo seer asked, and none were able to answer his query. The only sure thing about the new organism was that it was unconscious, and probably male, his eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar, chest rising and falling with each breath of air. The black cloths he wore were slightly ripped in places, revealing a few scrapes and bumps on his flesh. One of his arms seemed to be twisted in an odd angle, although I really couldn't have been the judge-perhaps it was supposed to be bent like that?  
  
"One thing is sure," began Elder Miltiades. Though he could not see exactly what the stranger looked like, he was probably able to guess by the shocked noises that it was not exactly a Grundo that had emerged from the silver meteor, "we must offer this creature hospitality-cure its wounds, and aid it in going wherever it may be. I foresee this-it is the right thing to do," proclaimed Elder Miltiades confidently. Without stopping to question his authority, Grundo seers closed in on the creature, hoisting him from the ground and into the air. He stirred restlessly in his unconsciousness, but did not awaken, a low whimpering noise the only audible sound he made.  
  
Silently, the Grundo seers began to carry the creature back towards the Great Hall for further inspection and healing. If any were afraid of the creature, they did not display it anymore in their face-some could, undoubtedly, see vaguely what crimes this creature would commit, but as Elder Miltiades did not seem concerned, they pushed their suspicions aside as false prophecies. I myself felt unsettled, but did as the others, and followed after the crowd of Grundo seers back to the village. 


	2. Earth

Author's Note: You will notice Sloth's religion is stunningly like Roman Catholicism-this is no coincidence, I am just THAT unoriginal, so stole from my own religion and just used it. Yay. =D I hope that doesn't warrant a one way ticket to Hell. O.o  
  
Curiosity, at that time, had been yet another one of my many weaknesses. It had accounted for many of my toddler escapades, and would do the same in my adolescent age. However, as a toddler was "cute" when it is waddling around, exploring new places, an adolescent prying into places where she is not supposed to be is infinitely less cute, and arguably a pest. Yet I had never really cared what others thought of me, be it a nuisance or an asset, so usually went along with whatever I felt like, unless it would involve being removed from seer training.  
  
The area in which they kept the stranger was strictly off-limits to anyone who did not work with the healing arts and who had not been instructed that they would participate in the assistance of the stranger. This made little difference to me-a burning desire to know what was occurring inside that small room, so obviously unlocked, (as Grundos were very trusting creatures for the most part, even seers) grew over the few days afterwards, and soon was like a sore thumb in my side. I was distracted by it during everything-emotion control sessions, meditation, dinner-you name it, I thought about the stranger during that time.  
  
And finally one day I could not contain my interest anymore, and found it nearly taking over my body, my limbs finding themselves moving towards the direction of the door. Of course, I realized what an amount of trouble I could get into if there happened to be someone in the room at the moment, but it was during lunchtime, as I had decided to skip lunch to work on mind levitation, as for my current skill in the area was quite low. Quietly, I grasped the door handle and twisted it, opening the door a crack and poking my head in.  
  
Nobody was currently occupying the room besides the stranger himself, asleep in a bed in the corner, adjacent to a window, sunlight streaming down onto a troubled face. The room looked like a common bedroom for a Grundo-just a bed, and perhaps a small table that contained a precious few items on it. The bed was very large, yet the stranger's feet still overlapped the bed, hanging off in a very awkward manner. Very little had changed in his appearance since I had seen him last, besides the oddly bent arm in a sling, a few bandages scattered here and there, his cloths lying on the table and a bandage covering his right eye. Slowly, I entered the room, closing the door behind me.  
  
I snuck in, knowing I was trespassing. Adrenaline shot through my veins at the excitement, and I moved right up to the stranger's bed, my eyes unblinking as I inspected him. Everything about him was absolutely fascinating to me, although he did slightly resemble a very oddly shaped Grundo. I desired to wake him to ask him a plethora of questions, but knew that that would be risky at best, and probably should not be attempted. Tiptoeing from his bedside, I moved over to the table, running my fingers over the black cloths that he had been wearing. They were rough, though just freshly cleaned. On top of them was set a strip of white, longer than the notch had originally been. I picked this up, inspecting it carefully, tasting it, feeling it, smelling it.  
  
"I don't enjoy people licking my attire, miss."  
  
I nearly jumped at the voice, a deep, rich tone, much different from any Grundian voice. He spoke in that language that was not my native tongue, but still understandable, strangely enough. My head snapped over to the stranger, who was sitting comfortably on the bed, his arms crossed over his chest.  
  
"I.I." I began, my eyes wide, heart thundering.  
  
"Well, you're a new one, aren't you," he commented flatly, lifting an eyebrow. "With the hide of stars. Interesting."  
  
"M.my name is C-c." I spoke the language almost effortlessly, if it had not been for my frightened stutter. He waited patiently for my answer, his one uncovered eye looking quite amused. ".Citali," I managed to stutter out, and dropped the white thing that I had been holding.  
  
"Well, Citali, you may call me Father Frank Sloth. Just Frank is preferred, though. I don't expect you to know anything, or want to convert to, the religion I preach," stated the stranger. "Tell me, Citali, because nobody else will-where in the universe is your dignified planet located? Unfortunately, the little escape pod's radar went out as I left the galaxy Faerieland resides in."  
  
"G-g-galaxy?" I stuttered, unfamiliar with the world.  
  
"Yes, you know. The systems inside the universe, much larger than a solar system. Some spin, some don't spin.well, to tell you the truth, I don't know very much about the galaxies. Religion likes to think of its creatures as the center of the universe-I only recently discovered such things from the Space Faerie," explained Frank, his eye looking especially disturbed when he said 'Space Faerie.' I had very little idea of what he was talking about. "Thankfully, I have learned much on my travels-enough to know that you orbit around a red giant star."  
  
"R-r-red giant?"  
  
"No need to explain that now. Oh, I suppose you don't know as much as I would like. Anyway, you don't seem to be an adult of your species," he said, his tone mild.  
  
"A-actually, I'm not supposed to be in here.you won't tell, will you?" I squeaked, nervous.  
  
"No. What would it do to my benefit, anyway?" he said with a shrug. "I am but a stranger in a strange land."  
  
"Wh-what are you?"  
  
"Me? I am a faerie, albeit a wingless, male, mutated one at that. The mutant part is entirely not my fault-heredity has dealt me a lousy hand," he responded calmly with a bit of a wince. "Which is partially why I had to resort to being a holy man-if you're on the other end of a confessional 70% of the day, and the majority of faeries don't confess any of their sins, it's a pretty safe bet not to many people will see your face that often. Wingless, I'm afraid, is entirely my fault-some sins are unforgivable, despite what our laws say. And as for male-well, I suppose God messes up on all female species at times. What other way would they reproduce?" he asked, his question clearly rhetorical. "Well, now that you know a little bit more about me, what would you, pray tell, be? I can't even manage that out of my secretive healers."  
  
"I am a Grundo," I responded lamely. "Starry Female Grundo seer." What else could I say? There was nothing extraordinary about myself-I wasn't good at playing any kind of Grundo sport, or had any hobbies. I was still in training as far as seers went, and hadn't developed a specialty, as many other Grundo seers had. The information, however, seemed to be enough for Frank.  
  
"Then your species is Grundo. Never heard of them, not even from the Space Faerie. Peculiar." He looked out the window idly. "Do you by chance know what they did to my escape pod?"  
  
"Your what?"  
  
"You know, the thing I traveled in. Metallic, sort of round. Fell into the water, made a large splash. Also happened to run out of oxygen just as I came towards your planet, but that's another point entirely."  
  
"The meteor?"  
  
"Oh, dear, it's far from being a meteor. Traveling through space in rock would be very inconvenient."  
  
"Yes." I fidgeted slightly, shifting my weight. "A few Grundo seers are currently studying it for research purposes." That had also caught my attention, and I made a mental note to check that out as well. Frank, however, did not seem very pleased with his, a weary look coming onto his face. Sighing, he shook his head and laid back down on the bed, bending his legs so that his body actually fit on the whole of the bed, tilting his head so he could look out the window.  
  
"Your planet is cold," he said with a slight shiver.  
  
"It is?" I asked, but got no reply, as he had dropped back into a sleeping state. Finding this as my cue to leave, I tiptoed back to the door and opened it, checking the hallway before slipping out. A sense of joy rushed through me-probably mostly from getting away with something that I wasn't supposed to, which was a natural high. And this stranger only interested me more-intriguing something inside of me. I wanted to know more about where he came from, what he was, what was this 'religion' he spoke of. (Grundos are not a religious species-if we have any "god" it may as well have been our sun.)  
  
But at the moment, my stomach had been bothering me-and I hadn't even partially studied levitation. My hunger, however, won over my mind, and I found myself heading back home to make myself something for lunch.  
  
"GIVE me that!"  
  
The shouting could be heard all the way down the hallway, the voice loud and commanding, jarring me out of the meditation. Dipak, the Grundo seer which had been my teacher for the past three years of training, grimaced as he saw that my concentration had been broken. I had never been known for my attention span, and getting me to focus on something as dull as meditation usually took the majority of the lesson. That day I had gotten into the swing of things fairly quickly, but the voices easily jolted me out from the shallow meditation.  
  
"B-but-is it some kind of weapon?"  
  
"Are you an imbecile? It's an instrument-this is the bow, this is the cello, and that sharp stick on the end of the cello you're so phobic of is called an end pin. If my arm weren't in this unfortunate condition, I would be able to show you a sample of the music it can produce. I'm surprised that it's in such good condition from such a rough landing-even still decently tuned."  
  
"Instrument? Music?"  
  
"Don't tell me you've never heard music before. Even primitive species such as the humans in the Milky Way have a KIND of music-although it's mostly just beating random things to get a pitch. You're telling me you don't even have drums?"  
  
"I'm sorry, it's nothing that we're familiar with."  
  
My connection to the conversation was cut off as Dipak closed the door, obviously seeing that I was much more interested in the exchange between Frank and another Grundo seer than my lessons. Dipak returned to his seat, crossing his legs. "Now, let's try this again, okay?" he asked, his voice level, although carrying a bit of irritation underneath the false calm. Mentally, I sighed, and closed my eyes, forcing myself to drift away into darkness.  
  
The days passed, but my interest in the stranger named Frank did not wean at all. He was beginning to wander out of the Great Hall much more frequently, much to the dismay of the seers overlooking his welfare. The villagers, however, did not seem to be shocked by the presence of an organism that was not of their species-in fact, most of the Green colored villagers were quite attracted to Frank, probably recognizing him looking remotely like themselves and followed after him, sometimes into the Great Hall itself. Slowly, the man healed, his arm soon functioning quite well. He insisted that he be able to use the escape pod as a temporary home, just outside of the village. I watched his actions from afar, never approaching him directly from that day which I had spoken to him. Yet there was that undeniable attraction to him that kept me sending longing looks towards the blackened metallic (as he called it, whatever metal was) escape pod, so much so that Dipak called me 'impossible' at least four times during lessons a day.  
  
I finally found the guts to at least approach the escape pod one day, a few green Grundo villagers following after me. I wasn't quite fond on Grundos that weren't seers, as they were difficult to communicate with and even worse to keep a conversation with, but I tolerated them, as all seers were required to do. As I came closer to the escape pod, a peculiar noise flooded into my ears. It wasn't your average, everyday Grundo-at-work noise, or some kind produced by nature. No, it was flowing like a river, yet containing many different pitches, as a Grundo bird would. It left me stunned, stopping in my tracks, my senses astounded. The green Grundos did not seem concerned, however, smiling widely and quite blankly, crooning along in cracky tones, doing nearly the same thing with their vocal chords. My look of astonishment shifted to them, and I hardly noticed that the sound had stopped, as the Grundo villagers hadn't.  
  
"Well, well, look who comes for a visit." I whipped around, nearly causing harm to my neck. Sitting on top of the escape pod comfortably was Frank, a very odd looking hunk of wood held nimbly in his blunt fingers, his other hand holding what almost looked like a spear, though significantly less sharp. A whimsical smile danced across his face, his expression almost laughing. My ear stalks felt very hot, and I knew that I was blushing. "It's been a while."  
  
"What.what was that?" I asked, unable to ask anything else. The sounds still lingered in the back of my mind, hauntingly beautiful. Frank lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"What, you mean this?" he asked, and pressed the spear-like object against the hunk of wood and pulled it across, his left hand's fingers trembling across the thin part of the block of wood. The sound began again, and I found myself paralyzed. He laughed audibly then, stopping the sound by lifting the spear from the wood. "It's called music, Citali. You Grundos certainly are strange little creatures, having not heard music. Your companions seem to like it well enough," he said, cocking his head to the side. "And your opinion?"  
  
"I.er," I muttered, the flush staying on my face. I couldn't think of a thing to say now that I was confronted face to face with him. "It's.nice," I managed to blurt out, unable to describe it in any other way. It had been as if a bolt of lightning had smashed into my ears, producing something that I couldn't even imagine. And how could the villager Grundos reproduce that sound with their voices? It baffled me. How did the seers not know of such a thing? It seemed so utterly simple at first glance-although I hadn't known the complexity of such an instrument at the time to produce a solid sound, there was a sudden passion for such a mysterious sound, keeping with me even through its absence, almost.catchy.  
  
"Would you care to come in?" he asked, waving a hand idly towards the door, still stationed on top of the metallic meteor, or rather, escape pod. It seemed larger than I had remembered it, expanded on the sides, certainly more homely than it had originally been. I nodded fiercely, perhaps appearing more desperate than I had intended. He opened the door and slipped down inside, and I followed after him, scrambling up the side of the escape pod clumsily and falling inside, landing hard on my back end.  
  
What I found inside was not quite what I expected. My eyes were treated to a delicacy for the seeing, although I could not make a lick of sense of it at the time. I had not fallen onto the ground, but instead into a soft, green-colored chair made for a figure significantly larger than my size, dwarfing me. My feet barely even hung over the edge. In front of me was a blank white screen, accompanied by a multitude of switches and buttons, a control panel that was absolutely mind boggling. Behind the chair, which swiveled, much to my delight, was about the same amount of switches and gadgets. I stared, open-mouthed.  
  
"Don't worry, it took me three years of wandering space to figure out her out," consoled Frank, his hand patting the top of the chair. "But this isn't my home-this is just a remnant of my past decade. My past few weeks, however, have been spent here." Ushering me out of the chair, he showed me the two rooms that had been built onto either side of the escape pod, though I was not exactly sure how he had managed such a feat. One side seemed to be a bedroom, complete with somewhere to lie and a few artifacts that I assumed were for his religion, for they did not look like things of comfort. The other side he seemed more hesitant to show to me, but did anyway.  
  
It was, again, as something I had never seen-almost out of some kind of Grundo tale. There was a constant stream of noise from there, but not of a musical nature-it was the sound of snapping bubbles and other various chemicals bubbling, many different test tubes set up over steaming trays. For some reason, it struck me as more sac religious then a holy man should be doing.  
  
"What are these?" I dared to ask, my face reflected in contorted shapes on the polished glass.  
  
"Oh-just some hobbies. Nothing huge," he said hurriedly. "Although religion is officially my job, I can't help but delve in something that challenges the thing that I depend on the most. Besides, there happened to be some spare strontium and uranium lying around in the escape pod," he commented innocently. (It didn't matter to me really; I hadn't a clue what those elements were, or even what elements were at all. And if I had known what strontium was, I would probably not have tried to get as close as I had been in those moments.)  
  
"Why did those Grundo villagers follow me here?" I asked, a bit confused on that subject.  
  
"Oh.them. They've been visiting lately-I think they believe me to be one of their long lost ancestors. Besides, I promised them a little gift." he said with a shrug, "and they've been gunning for it the moment I got out of the Great Hall. Oh well. I have bigger fish to fry at the moment," he said, waving his hand dismissively towards the outside of the escape pod. "How have you been faring? I understand you're undergoing some sort of training.?"  
  
"Horribly. I can't focus on anything anymore-minor little things distract me. It's completely inappropriate for a Grundo seer such as myself.we need to be able to concentrate on any one thing at a time," I said with a long sigh. I didn't completely know why I was answering his question. It just seemed when he asked something I was obligated to answer- something about the way he presented a question.  
  
"Maybe you're not suited for being a seer then, eh?" he suggested. "Sometimes we are literally born into things we want nothing of-despite this," he began, tugging at the white notch at his neck, "-I never wanted anything to do with that God of the faeries. I wanted to see the stars, to love, to explore the universe.but unfortunately, this also greatly limits me to a single life putting faith in nothing but an invisible deity," he said bitterly, his fists clenching. "Yet faeries are a species of vanity. Without such, one has very few options."  
  
For a moment, there seemed to be someone different in the room than Frank. A darkness filled the room, seeming to come from Frank himself, his red eyes narrowed to mere slits. "But maybe.there is another option." he said, his voice soft yet sinister, a smile slowly creeping across his lips. It was not the man that I had watched from afar in that room for that terrifying moment, but another, something that had been hiding behind a mask of holiness, of kindness. But no, it had not been a mask, for this was another person entirely, unknown to myself.  
  
But much to my relief, this person went away quickly, replaced by the Frank that I had been talking with only moments earlier. He covered his face with one of his hands, breathing in deeply. "My apologies.I don't know what came over me for a second. I was just.remembering."  
  
"Dare I ask what?"  
  
"If you must," he said gravely, the color seeming to drain from his face. He moved backwards and collapsed into the chair, suddenly looking very old and tired. "I did not leave Faerieland-that's where my homeland is- out of choice. I left.because I had to. I was running away."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It's difficult to explain. I must start from the beginning." He turned to the control panel for a moment, staring at it blankly, seemingly trying to regain his strength. Finally, he pressed his hand against a flat panel, and life sprang to the white screen. The image on the screen seemed to expand from being merely a flat surface to surrounding the two of us, leaving Frank and myself in a white expanse. "It's better if it is explained in this way.it is difficult to convey what happened merely through words." His hands seemed to press nothing, only air, but immediately Frank and the blankness were washed away, and I was elsewhere, somewhere I did not recognize. 


	3. Air

Author's Note: I dislike this chapter, possibly because I had to rewrite it because I hated it the first time around. Ah well. See what you think.  
  
It seemed to be some kind of place of congregation, many benches lined up in rows facing towards a large table of sorts covered in a white cloth. Behind this table was set some kind of seat which resembled a throne, two smaller seats on either side. Words came into my mind-pews, altar, church. And the scene suddenly made sense-I was inside of a church, the benches were pews, and the large table covered in a cloth was an altar. Standing behind the altar was Frank, putting away pieces of gold in the shapes of what appeared to be goblets.  
  
A woman dressed in black, small red butterfly wings coming from the back of her garment, her head covered as well, entered the main area of the church, peering around cautiously. Spotting Frank up at the altar, she quickened her pace. "Father," she said softly, her voice slightly irregular. As I got a better glance at her face, it was clear that her face was not normal for her species-a long scar ran from underneath her eye all the way to her chin, marring her features. "Are you positive that he is coming tonight?"  
  
"Positive," replied Frank, his eyes disturbed. "Just as sure as those flocks of crowds will be here.one day of the year, the only day they'll ever come."  
  
"Don't lose hope, father."  
  
"Any hope I had was lost when I was born," he muttered, moving to a small cabinet and unlocking it, placing the golden goblet inside. He tilted his head upwards, peering into the lights tiredly, as if expecting to see something. "If there is a God, he is awfully silent." The woman ran to him, grasping him by the arm.  
  
"It's not healthy for you to speak like that. You seem so dismal lately-you always seem dismal around this time of year," she said, her orange eyes searching his. He gave a roll of his eyes.  
  
"Who wouldn't be-knowing that when your replacement comes only once a year.that lazy bum gets more positive attention than you could ever hope for," answered Frank flatly. "Nomad my bum."  
  
"Father Uriel is a good faerie-he doesn't mean to insult you."  
  
"Of course he doesn't," said Frank softly, closing the cabinet doors and locking them, slipping the key into the pocket. He did not say anything after that, but walked down the steps to where the pews were, placing his hand momentarily on the back of the pew. "But nonetheless, I will not be present tonight. I will see you tomorrow, sister," he said, and walked down the long aisle in the center towards the door.  
  
"Maybe-maybe he could heal you!" cried the woman after him, desperate, not wanting him to leave. She got very lonely when he wasn't around-she was the only other faerie that lived at the church. Although she had been born a normal faerie, an accident had doomed her to a life in the church, hiding her scars from the encounter behind a veil of religious service, as if it would redeem her. Frank shook his head, not even bothering to stop. She could not see his face, the tears running down it angrily, dripping down to his shirt. Wiping furiously at them with the back of his hand, frustrated at his weakness in emotion, he replied with a hoarse, cracking voice.  
  
"Trust me, sister-he can't."  
  
The sun was only slightly past its height in the sky when Father Uriel did manage to arrive. The woman had been fretting all day, sitting alone in the front pew, not knowing what to do, wringing the hem of her dress worriedly. She was not used to doing things on her own-all her life she had relied on the presence of her parents, and when they had passed away in the accident, on the church and Father Frank. So, naturally, when the knocking began on the door, she shot from her position on the pew and to the door.  
  
"Father Uriel!" she cried in relief, and swung the door open, inviting the priest in. The male pulled back the hood of his black robe, revealing his face. No, it never changed, no matter how many years passed- and unlike all others in religious service, Father Uriel's face was smooth and youthful, handsome for being one of the only male faeries around. His hair, longer than one would expect for a male, was a deep jade color, contrasting with his crimson eyes. The woman would always wonder if male faeries all had the same hair and eye coloration.  
  
"Good afternoon, sister, looking just as lovely as ever-did Father Frank actually decide to stay this time?" he asked, although his face made it obvious that he did not expect such a phenomenon, brushing his lips against her cheek. The woman shook her head regrettably, although was slightly stimulated by his affection.  
  
"No, I'm sorry-he stormed off, moody as ever," she said with a tiny sigh.  
  
"Just leaving you to yourself? Certainly Father Frank has more compassion than that."  
  
"He's been abnormally gloomy lately.I'm beginning to wonder if it's bordering on depression."  
  
"Don't be silly, sister-faeries don't get depressed, that's strictly a matter for the developing humans on a completely different planet."  
  
"Oh, so you've accepted their presence then?"  
  
"Yes, but that doesn't mean we can let the other parishioners as well- the religious community is always pretty good at covering up science where it needs be," replied Uriel, an ironic smile on his face as he pulled off his cloak, hanging it up on a nearby peg. "You don't want to be out of a job, do you, sister?"  
  
"No more than you."  
  
"Smart girl," he commented, his eyes twinkling. "Now, what do you say we finish getting ready for tonight's mass?"  
  
The night sky was alive with a various number of lights flashing across the sky, varying in colors. In truth, they were not beams of light but single points traveling at high enough speeds to render themselves as mere blurs-they were faeries, heading for their homes among the clouds. They all seemed to come from one single point-a small, wooden building; the church. Two figures, however, bigger than the average faerie, stood outside of the building, looking up into the skies, bidding the glowing faeries farewell into the darkness of night.  
  
"Wonderfully inspirational, as every year, Father Uriel," gushed the woman, clutching Uriel's arm, her body leaning pointedly towards him. It was quite clear that, despite her vow to abstinence and singularity, that she had a sweet spot for the similarly-bound priest. He, though, was markedly disinterested in manner, his eyes locked on the departing faeries.  
  
"Oh. Thank you," he said offhandedly, only half-hearing her, his attention, for the most part, fixed on the faeries. "Do you notice that they move away quickly, as if they're afraid of this place? They never come here any other time during the year-or so I'm told. It's like some kind of twisted holiday, letting those in who would never come otherwise. Should they really be allowed to do such a thing? Shouldn't it be considered a sin?"  
  
"You can't reign in faeries. It's impossible. Free spirits we will always be, free to choose our destiny as we may choose. Our God gave us free will for a reason-isn't that what the good book says?"  
  
"The book also says honor the Sabbath day. Do they do that?" The woman was struck speechless, beaten, for the moment, at her own game. He took advantage of the woman's shock by slipping out from her grip elusively, not making it totally obvious. He did not have much time to revel in his liberation, however, as he suddenly crumpled over in pain, clutching at his stomach in agony. The woman reacted, placing a hand supportively on his shoulder.  
  
"Father Uriel.?" she asked. He pushed her away, however, staggering forward.  
  
"N-no.leave me alone.I have to go.don't follow me," he stuttered out, bent over and trembling. With surprising, speed he took off, effectively leaving the woman behind. It took her a moment to recover from her shock, but after she had, she did not follow his directions-she shot off in the direction she had last seen him going, her wings working overtime. She did not care the questionable looks she got from some faeries-she followed his path diligently, drawn by an almost mystical force. She followed his trail through the streets of what could be considered a city for faeries, nominally independent individuals, to the forest of cloud trees, swaying their branches of gnarled, gray storm clouds. The wind seemed to have picked up in the area, whipping the branches, pieces of cloud brushing against her scarred face.  
  
"Father Uriel!" she cried into the darkness, but was responded only by darkness, her own words seeming to ricochet back at her, slapping her violently in the face. Still she trudged forwards, her curiosity getting the better of her-she had always wondered where the beloved priest went after his annual visits. Was it true he went on escapades with the rogue Space Faerie, traversing throughout the galaxy, the universe, the cosmos? And what had been ailing him as he swiftly departed.  
  
It was when she came to a clearing that she halted, instinctively stopping among the trees before she emerged into the pale moonlight. She could hear the sounds of faeries following her, but they were far behind- they would not arrive in time. Timidly, she poked her head through the trees, peering through like a peeping Tom. Sure enough, in the clear lay Father Uriel on his side, panting, groaning, curled up into a fetal position. There was clearly something paining him in his stomach, cramping, or perhaps bleeding internally.  
  
From the side of the field came another dark form-much larger than Uriel's slight form. "Is the great Father Uriel in pain?" came a low voice from the figure, the voice slightly sarcastic, especially on the words 'great,' and walked out of the trees, revealing himself as Frank, his eyes narrowed. Uriel strained to look up at Frank.  
  
"Father Frank.leave me alone.not even you can help me now."  
  
"Who said I was going to help you? But I may as well anyway-I'm not going to let the good Samaritan get the credit this time," he replied, walking over to Father Uriel, reaching down for the faerie. The priest did not seem to want Frank's assistance, however, batting him away furiously with a hand. Pulling back as if he had truly been struck (which he very well might have been), he narrowed his eyes. "I'm only trying to help you, Uriel."  
  
"I don't need your help.not a shred of it," he moaned, sweat running down his forehead.  
  
"Unless you desire to die lying here, I wager you do," snapped back Frank, bending down to Uriel. Uriel did not resist this time. Frank slowly reached towards what seemed to be ailing Uriel. Uriel drew back, cringing, and Frank then approached more slowly, opening Uriel's shirt slowly. He pulled backwards when he saw what was plaguing the poor priest-gripping at his stomach seemed to be thousands of dark tendrils, groping his skin furiously. It was not a common disease among faeries, but known nonetheless, especially among light faeries. It had to do with the sudden shifting of lightness and darkness within a faerie's body. It was supposed to be quite painful, and eventually kill the faerie that possessed it.  
  
"You see why I turned to priesthood now," smirked Uriel, and then grimaced, as the pain wracked through his body. "It has only recently flared up to such an extreme.I will die tonight, and there is nothing you can do to stop my imminent death."  
  
"But.God."  
  
"God? God nothing. If God was really there.would he plague me with this?" snarled Uriel, his calm nature suddenly shifted into one of an almost ravaging beast. "The cause we work for.nobody cares. God has looked away from us.God will never look back, for his people have abandoned him.and so, appropriately, he has abandoned his people. Those that still do praise him.have been forgotten along with the rest." Uriel squeezed his eyes shut. "I just pray.that the gates of Heaven are still open to the holy men.to us.if God is there."  
  
"This really isn't a good time to go doubting if your God is there or not. And you're not going to die, Uriel, you're going to live," growled Frank between clenched teeth. "You're the only one they listen to-you think they're going to listen to me? A abomination of their race?"  
  
"Faith. Have faith."  
  
"How can you talk about faith after just telling me you don't think God remembers us?"  
  
"I.I don't know. Maybe it's the disease talking.but." Uriel swallowed, his eyes rolling slightly back into his head, and then focusing slightly on Frank, yet at the same time looking almost through him. He reached for Frank's hand, missing completely. Frank reached forward and took it, relieving him of the duty of finding it on his own. "I'm sorry.for the trouble I've.caused you." Tears dripped out of the sides of his eyes as his gaze shifted upwards, staring blankly into the sky. "Good-bye." With those last words, his eyesight seemed to completely go askew, any signs of life disappearing from his eyes.  
  
Frank looked at the priest in disbelief, not able to believe what he saw. "Uriel? Oh God, no!" he screamed, and began to go off in a tangent of frenzied speech, a cluster of curses and other snippets of speech. Slowly, he began to wean off his angry shouts, bowing his head, clutching Father Uriel's shirt and then lifting his hand, looking off aimlessly into the distance.  
  
"You can stop hiding, sister," he spoke gravely, his eyes staring vacantly at one of the trees surrounding the clearing.  
  
"But, how.?" asked the woman, her face looking totally puzzled, unable to comprehend what she had just witnessed, despite seeing it all.  
  
"I don't know, sister. I didn't-"  
  
"MURDERER!"  
  
The blunt accusation came from the woods, the definite shrieking of a Dark Faerie in a rich alto tone. The small point of light rushed into the clearing, followed by various other points of light, though not all purple as most dark faeries were, making some Earth, Fire, Light or Air faeries, though most likely not Water faeries, for not many of them knew how to fly. The dark faerie zoomed right up to Frank's face, shameless, and punched him quite firmly in the eye.  
  
"What in the name of the good Lord was that for?" shouted Frank, covering his eye with one of his hands in pain.  
  
"Fine, act like you don't know, murderer! It's been obvious since square one that you've been jealous of Father Uriel for being so much better at your job-but to go and kill him-now that's a sin worthy of death!" cried the obnoxious little dark faerie.  
  
"Murder.Uriel?" asked Frank, not quite comprehending what she was trying to communicate. He looked blankly from Uriel's soulless body and back to the dark faerie, speechless.  
  
"I could hear the struggle all the way from Faerie City-your swearing, his poor weeps as you gave him no mercy.and this!" She pointed downwards to her comrades, who patted Father Uriel's body, trying to wake him from his eternal sleep. "Is it not evidence enough of your merciless slaughter of an innocent man?!"  
  
"But there isn't even any blood on him-and besides, this can all be easily explained-"  
  
"Enough of your phony excuses-girls, have at him! Justice will be served tonight-our father will be avenged! Demon!" bellowed the dark faerie, and before Frank could even react enough to at least give chase, the faeries were on him, many pinpoints of light rushing towards his face. Their numbers seemed to increase by tenfold, transporting in from absolutely nowhere just to participate in the cruel sentence for the wrongfully accused priest, a large misunderstanding that seemed to be the very end of his existence.  
  
The pain was intense, as it came softly but in many numbers, enough to justify blinding pain. It was brief, much to Frank's relief, however- something seemed to pick him out of the massacre, lifting him into the air. He watched as the faeries seemed to continue to beat himself, although he wondered how he could have been up in the air while he was also down there. Was his soul rising, having already been 'justice-a-fied' by the insane faeries?  
  
"Honestly, dear, you need to be more cautious-those faeries will take any excuse possible to eliminate a blemish on their skin of perfection," sighed a voice from above him, familiar. Straining his neck upwards, he spotted the Space Faerie, grasping to his hand and pulling him upwards. "That illusion will last for only a few more minutes with the beating they're doing to it," she said, motioning down to the ground, "and then there'll be a manhunt. They're all too predictable."  
  
"What about.the sister.?"  
  
"Her? Oh, she'll be fine. They hardly even notice she's there, though she'll probably think you're dead by now. All the better-you won't be returning anyway," replied the Space Faerie offhandedly. "Hold your breath, now-we're going to have to accelerate to get through the atmosphere, and there isn't much oxygen past that. Unless you're developed for outer space travel," she commented dryly. Frank did as told, and just in time-for the Space Faerie did things hastily, as there was no time for halting in space; everything was just too far apart for delays.  
  
It was not long before the two had arrived at a small space craft, the Space Faerie opening the hatch, slipping both of themselves inside of it, shutting it tightly behind her. "Alright, listen closely, because I won't be able to repeat myself," she stated in a cold, logical voice. "This is an escape pod, disconnected from my main mothership. You can send messages back to it, but only within this galaxy-and this puppy is designed for outergalatic travel. You can steer manual or set her on autopilot with these buttons. Everything else is stated in a manual within her system- she's already on, and you can search her hard drive with this joystick. You should be able to survive on the oxygen and food in here for approximately two decades, more if you're lucky-enough time for that stupid little dark faerie to demise and your 'murder' with her."  
  
"You have this down to a science, don't you?"  
  
"Well, I always figured they'd eventually pin you for something, and I just wanted to be sure that you had some way to escape the heat for a while."  
  
"That's kind of you," stated Frank flatly.  
  
"You'll repay me someday, I'm sure," she replied, smiling. "Now don't get lost or anything-and you'd better be coming back," she said grimly, narrowing her crimson eyes.  
  
"I will."  
  
"Well, then I guess I'll be seeing you in twenty, eh?" she said, her smile not quite too sincere. It was almost sad, regretful. There was something much more than friendship between the two faeries, drastically different as they were-it was clear enough by the way their identical eyes locked briefly, expressing something far deeper than merely the surface friendship they shared. They were two lonely souls destined for solitude, yet seeking another.  
  
At this point, I halted my watching and listening, reverting myself ultimately back to reality. I had gotten far too caught up in the virtual memory displayed before me, everything making an eerie sense, understanding implanted into my brain like a computer chip. (Although at the time, I had no knowledge of computers either, so would not have given such a comparison.) Yet I suppose I had not known the magnitude of my crush until that very moment-for something deep within me stirred uncomfortably seeing Frank so obviously impassioned over another entity. I could not even focus enough to bring it back, to have an explanation-no, I was utterly back, my eyes regaining their life from a dream-like state.  
  
"Is there something the matter?" asked Frank, obviously noticing the perturbed look on my face. I quickly wiped it away as I came back to painful reality, and shook my head.  
  
"No-I'm fine. I'm just slightly confused," I admitted. True, I was perplexed, slightly, but I was fibbing about myself being fine. It felt as if someone had reached inside of my stomach with a great clawed hand and twisted it in a violent manner. I remembered having this feeling before, some time back-it was when I had still been about child-aged and I had had an intense crush on a cute Shadow Grundo seer male my age. The feeling came from when I had come upon him fawning upon another female Grundo, not a seer but certainly a looker even for her stupidity and relatively young age.  
  
"There's not much to be confused about-the point is, they think I killed their favorite priest, and at the moment.I'm just waiting out my time. Although.there could be a few side projects," he said thoughtfully, his mind seeming to drift easily into other places. That slight darkness seemed to grip at the edges of his existence again, but blurred to nothing again, although its comings and goings alone were disturbing enough.  
  
"So, then.that was how I got here-yet the future is still to be written, hmm?" he said with a shrug. And within his words I found a spark of hope.  
  
The future could rewrite the past. Perhaps there was still room for my little crush-and the hand released its tight grasp on my intestines. I muffled a long sigh of relief, although at that time I did not notice the darkness creeping in once again, but moving away just in time for me to hardly notice. This was just another example of my extreme naiveté-even being a seer, I could not see into the future, was blinded by my affection for him. The formula was all laid out for a dangerous situation: a spited man with something much darker than goodness brewing inside of him, small, perhaps, but escalating, a tiny error resulting in an enormous error in the end.  
  
I sensed that it was late, although less time had passed than I would have thought, as the clips had been stretched over a longer set of time, somehow taking a shorter time to play through. "I suppose it's your dinner time, now," said Frank, looking at the numbers on the control panel, completely irrelevant to me. (Grundos did not measure time in a mechanical fashion.) "I don't have much food here, so I'm afraid I can't offer you dinner." he began.  
  
"Oh, no, it's fine," I amended. "I need to get home anyway.Dipak's going to kill me if he finds out I wasn't doing my exercises," I commented, swallowing, realizing that these words I spoke were indeed true. I looked up above me to see the door, quite out of my reach, way over my head. "Uh."  
  
Frank laughed softly. "Yes, well, this door isn't exactly suited for Grundos. Shall I help you out?"  
  
"Please," I said, sustaining a blush that was just underneath my skin, ready to break through and embarrass me even further. He stood up, reaching upwards, opening the hatch and lifted me up, placing me on top of his abode.  
  
"Alright, well, I guess I'll see you later, hopefully?" he suggested. The blush almost broke its way onto my skin, but I managed to hold it back.just barely. I nodded furiously, almost too eagerly. "See you later, then." With that, he closed the hatch, disappearing back inside. I paused slightly on top of the escape pod, and then slid down as if I were on a slide, scratching myself slightly on the gears outside of it, landing smoothly on my feet.  
  
As I began walking away, the faint song of the instrument floated after me, its tone darker than it had been before, lower and more shaking. A shiver coursed through my body. Convincing myself it was just the steadily dropping temperature of nighttime, I quickened my pace, jogging back home. 


	4. Fire

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. My visits to Frank's house steadily increased (though my work into a full seer suffered due to this), as did the size of his house, where he was getting the material from still a mystery to me. By the time three months had passed, the 'escape pod' was already beginning to rival the Great Hall in size, a mansion of sorts. I was oblivious to the fact that although the escape pod was growing larger in size, so were the jets on the back of take off. Of course, it made little difference to me-Grundos knew little to nothing about space travel, and as far as I knew, Frank just wanted more space to perform his experiments, for that was what he seemed to be most interested in lately.  
  
His personal room had been greatly downsized, artifacts of religious significance collecting dust in corners. I asked about this only once-he replied simply that he felt his God could not hear him from this world, and thus they had become completely obsolete-in fact, his whole priesthood was completely obsolete, and he had little reason to practice it anymore. He still wore the same clothes, however-though it seemed for different reasons then being modest in dress.  
  
But despite the changes going on inside of the escape pod, and going on inside of Frank himself, my attraction did not waver. In fact, it became more persistent, nudging itself gently into casual conversation. I thought it should be very apparent to him what I was feeling-but if he knew, he did not express any knowledge. He treated me as a friend, if more respected then the still-appearing green Grundos that flocked around the escape pod. He let me participate in some of the experiments he performed, showing me the periodic table of elements that he had devised (which would later be converted for human elements). Although I was not turning out to be much of a seer because of Frank's arrival, I was certainly advancing far beyond other Grundo seers in other respects.  
  
But my daily activities were suddenly given a jolt when horrible news came to our house during breakfast. My father was pointedly ignoring me, quite agitated that I was spending much more time with Frank then studying. (Dipak, on the other hand, had completely dumped me as a teacher, forcing me to get a replacement.) The message came in the form of Prakash, looking even whiter than he usually did. For the first time I heard the Grundo seer speak, his voice squeaky, high and nasally, certainly not how I had imagined his voice.  
  
"Master Aditya, sir!" he cried, nearly busting down our door as he invited himself in. "Master Aditya, it's Elder Miltiades-he's fallen terribly ill!" It was a well-known fact that my father was the best healer in the village, and he stood up rapidly, nearly knocking over his morning juice. I stood up as well, concern filling my body. The news was unexpected- the last time I had seen Elder Miltiades, he had been in good health, despite his age.  
  
"Citali, get my bags of medicine," said my father, speaking to me for the first time that morning. I obeyed, running to his room and swiping it off of his bed stand, running back to the breakfast table, handing him the bag. He opened it, skimming through the contents, and then closed it, nodding sharply. "I have all I need. Lead us there, Prakash," he said. My heart jumped as he said "we," clearly indicating that I was to be included. I blessed my dear father as we hurried off at a very surprising pace for Grundos. He lead us to the Great Hall, downstairs in the coolest room where Elder Miltiades lay, his form unconscious and burning hot.  
  
"High fever and trouble breathing," my father mumbled to himself, digging through his bag. "I've seen this before, and I have treated it. Unfortunately, in Grundos of Elder Miltiades' age, there is a very slight chance that he will survive through the night," my father reported gravely, and brought out a small vile, splashing the contents onto his hand, pulling back the covers and then rubbing it on Elder Miltiades' chest. "Let's just hope that he will pull through."  
  
"And your beloved Elder certainly won't if you use such primitive medicine," replied a voice sarcastically. Stepping down the stairs came Frank, holding a bag of his own. My father bristled with hostility.  
  
"Nobody invited you."  
  
"Nobody told me to stay away, either. And besides, when someone's near death, you generally call in a holy man to send them off into the heavens, don't you?" countered Frank, his calm demeanor a contrast to the tension in the room. "If you keep to this ancient medicine man routine, you're going to end up with a lot more dead patients then live ones. Here," he said, pulling out a brown-colored bottle, its contents darker inside. "Give him a spoonful of this every mealtime-he should be cured in approximately two days." He handed me the bottle, along with an odd utensil. "That would be a spoon," he commented dryly, seeing me fingering the utensil.  
  
Slowly, I obliged to opening the bottle and pouring some into the rounded edge of that 'spoon.' I touched the spoon to Elder Miltiades' lips, the elderly Grundo quivering, his lips parting slowly. I tipped it into his mouth and stroked his throat to help it down his esophagus, a practice used for getting water into a dehydrated Grundo's mouth if they were too weak to intake it themselves.  
  
Instantly, Elder Miltiades' condition seemed to improve, his shaking in the bed decreasing and his skin, to the touch, seemed to cool. My father shot a sharp look in Frank's direction, who seemed quite satisfied with the results. "Oh, and to cover up the separation between science and religion, take this too," he said, tossing something at my father. Instinctively, my father caught what had been thrown at him, and opened up his hands to look at what his hands now contained. It was a small golden chain, containing an lowercase letter t as a charm. "Hang it over his bed. And since I'm not exactly welcomed, as I can see-I'll be off."  
  
With that, he walked out of the room, disappearing behind the closed door. My father immediately grabbed the bottle, appearing as if he were about to smash it against the ground. I caught his wrist just in time. "Father! What are you doing?!" I hissed, my eyes wide.  
  
"I don't trust that man-although he comes off as a regular person, there's something different about him. Elder Miltiades sensed it as well- and I really don't want you going to talk to him anymore. Many seers are worried as well-and plus, your studies are suffering," replied my father in a quiet, logical voice. "Now, let's return to the normal remedies, and rid ourselves of his foul potions." Again he raised his arm against mine, but I snatched the bottle from him.  
  
"This medicine HELPED Elder Miltiades-which is more than you can say for your medicine," I answered coldly. My father gave me a look as if he had been slapped in the face, his eyes shocked. The expression quickly faded away, however, giving way to boiling-over impatient ebbing to rage.  
  
"We have been practicing medicine this way for years-"  
  
"And THAT'S why it doesn't work! If we're going to go with medical science, we have to advance at sometime. Evolution is essential to everything to make its way into new generations-it's how the world works! You don't keep using something if it doesn't work, do you?" I protested.  
  
"Citali, I used to be very proud of you, before this stranger came to our world. You were shaping up to be a fine seer-perhaps the next elder. But then that stranger comes and wipes your mind of all of the principles we Grundos seers stand for-talk of chemicals, evolution, revolutions! You're forgetting your culture, your family-your own species!" retorted my father, his temper rising. I had never seen him so furious before-usually he was quite even tempered, taking large things to set him off.  
  
"Exactly-I'm prepared for the future; you're not. You will die with the rest of our species when the time comes," I replied in a low, dark voice that did not sound anything like myself. For a moment, I frightened even myself, to say nothing of my father, who dropped the bottle. Luckily, my hands were still firmly on the bottle, so it did not go crashing to the floor. I tried to amend myself, stuttering. "Father, I didn't mean it like that-" I began, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. My father, however, did not seem interested in my apology, scrambling from the floor and moving away from me, Prakash looking quite baffled as well.  
  
"There's no need to apologize, Citali," he cut in, his eyes half- closed. "Treat Elder Miltiades yourself if you like.with your revolutionary new methods. Then.then perhaps you'll see your error." He darted out of the room like a scared piece of game, escaping from the hunter. My eyes trailed to Prakash helplessly, who seemed equally as disturbed.  
  
"Citali, what happened to you?" he whispered in his squeaky voice, and then turned his back to me, focusing on Elder Miltiades as if I weren't even there at all.  
  
For the first moment in time, I felt very alone-as if I was on a stranded island with nobody around, not even a small little crab, or bugs that hovered around my head. I felt empty, a soulless husk with no real purpose, standing blankly, staring at the back of Prakash's head with vacant eyes. I wanted to run over and throw my arms around Prakash, just to feel the warmth of another body touching mine, comforting me even if he didn't want to. I could feel hot tears filling my eyes, overfilling and then rolling down my face. My grip weakened on the bottle and then fell to the ground with a smash, the glass breaking and emptying its contents onto the ground. The revolution became a puddle at my feet.  
  
Prakash looked over to me in surprise, and saw the tears running down my face, my body stiff and tense. Slowly, he approached me, and then wrapped his arms comfortingly around me, soothing me, stroking one of my ear stalks. I wept into his shoulder, unable to control the frantic tears that seemed endless. I could hardly feel Prakash's touch-but it was nice nonetheless, easing the tension throughout my whole body, including my mind.  
  
"L-let me sh-show you how to use the medicine bag," I said, stumbling over my words, the tears still coming, but enabling me to speak. We moved to the side of Elder Miltiades' bed where the bag still remained, my father, in his haste, having left if there. Picking it up, I rummaged through it, my father's words echoing in my mind as a young Grundo toddler, showing me all the medicines and their purposes. I pulled out a few assorted items, placing them on the bed stand next to Elder Miltiades. "These.this one's an ointment to rub on his chest.this he has to ingest at dawn and dusk.and that one's to lie on his forehead. Can you do that?"  
  
"I think so," replied Prakash, nodding his head. I wiped the tears from my eyes, feeling silly, with the back of my hand.  
  
"Good. I guess I'll leave it to you then," I said, swallowing back a lump in my throat. "I need to get home.my father."  
  
"I understand," said Prakash, his voice, though annoying, soothing in a weird way, as he placed his hand gently on my shoulder. I still had no feeling beyond friendship for Prakash-yet he was a sweet Grundo for what he was worth. "You could also do with some rest, you know.you look tired."  
  
"I'm fine," I lied, rubbing my temples. "Well, I should be off. Good- bye, Prakash," I said, waving as I walked out the door. I could feel his eyes watching me the whole way, and I felt guilty of letting him think that he had a chance when he clearly didn't. Yet maybe that was how Frank saw me- and that thought made my stomach drop into my intestines in regret.  
  
I noticed vaguely that the golden chain Frank had given to my father now resided in my hands. Rubbing the charm on it, I looked at it only briefly  
  
My father refused to speak to me when I got home, even after I explained what had happened. One of his ear stalks perked in interest, but beyond that, I got very little response. Feeling rejected and empty once again, I headed towards my bedroom, flopping into my bed and hoping that I would fall asleep instantly. In fact, I did-and completely slept through lessons and lunch. I suppose Prakash had been accurate in saying that I was tired-even I hadn't noticed how horribly exhausted I was, in both physical and mental respects. The sun was already begin to set in the distance, a large red ball sinking beneath the horizon.  
  
Sighing, I shook my head and turned over in the bed. Although my stomach cried for food, my mind still wanted more rest-and my stomach could wait. However, my stomach won in its own lucky way-for I was aroused from a near-sleep when there was a slight tapping near my window. (Seeing as we didn't have glass, it couldn't have been ON the window-but it was definitely near it.) Opening my eyes a tad, I rolled over so as I could look out the window.  
  
Standing outside of the window was someone very familiar, yet nobody that I had ever physically, truly seen before. I blinked, rubbing my eyes, trying to determine whether I was hallucinating or what I was seeing was real. No-it was reality. Frank himself had come to my window.  
  
"Already sleeping? Isn't it a little early for that?" he asked, cocking his head quizzically.  
  
"I'm tired," I replied grumpily. I wasn't in the mood for speaking with anyone, even Frank. I rolled back over in bed. "Come back tomorrow," I added as an afterthought, closing my eyes.  
  
"Hey, hey, don't ignore me just yet," he pleaded, and I couldn't not give into such a pathetic sound that he made afterwards. I reluctantly turned back in the direction of my window, Frank poking his head in. "I have to show you something-something I've been working on for the past few months and is finally finished and perfected. I'm going to be displaying it for the whole village tomorrow-but for you I'll give a sneak peek, eh?" he said, his eyes sparkling. I wasn't exceptionally keen on the concept of getting out of my bed's relaxing comfort, but it was obvious Frank wasn't going to leave until I had gotten out of bed.  
  
"Alright," I replied with a sigh, hugging my pillow one last time before wrenching myself away from the softness of the bed for the cold stone floor, stumbling about in the dying sunlight. Launching myself over the frame of the window, I threw my legs over and slipped out of my house, glad that it was a one-story house. (Most Grundo huts were-we weren't into too large, elaborate buildings.)  
  
As soon as I was outside of the lure of my bedroom, my mind began to function properly once again, and my mind realized the still quite intense crush I had on Frank. It was only magnified as he walked next to me in the twilight. I turned my eyes away, making sure not to stare, although I found it difficult not to. Whenever I stole a look over, I found myself entranced for a few seconds, but then forced myself to look away.  
  
All the while, Frank had been discussing what exactly he had built, but I had zoned out for the time being. Quickly, I tuned back in, but found myself utterly confused. ".needed radiation, and I couldn't find anything until lately.you know a lot of the rocks around this area." Finding that I had very little interest in what he was saying, partially due to the fact I was completely lost, having not heard everything from the beginning. Whenever he looked over to me for a response, I either nodded or shook my head-or even shrugged. What else could I do?  
  
We arrived at his escape pod, enormous now, seemingly even bigger than I remembered seeing it only days earlier. Still, the hatch was rather difficult to get into, and Frank still had to assist me up. Wiggling through the hatch, I dropped down into the now-familiar chair. The control panel seemed to have expanded along with the escape pod, but I paid no mind to that small fact. Sliding out of the chair I followed after Frank, who had started moving without waiting for me. Feeling a bit rejected, I hastened my pace, being lead very obviously back to Frank's laboratory, which seemed larger than last time as well.  
  
And in the middle was the pet project he had been working on for a while which I had only caught brief , disinterested glimpses of. It was the machine that would spell our doom in dark, sinister calligraphy, a mark for all to wear like the condemned. Yet at the time I could only be fascinated at its complexity-the many gears that operated it, the nooks and crannies yet to be explored and familiarized with. For me, it was like seeing a large, super toy, the one in the toy store that you know is too horribly expensive for you to ever afford, yet you yearn for it nonetheless. My love for technology blossomed into full flower at that point.and later it would wilt, as all beautiful things do.  
  
"Amazing." I said, gaping. And then, the inevitable question: "What is it?"  
  
"Heh, well, I explained it before, but I've never been known to turn down explaining one of my babies," he said, patting the side of the machine as if it were a beloved pet. "She's absolutely incredible, if I do say so myself-possessing the power to revolutionize the future of an entire species! She is a step ahead of evolution." (Technically, Frank was contradicting himself this whole time, believing in evolution and creationism simultaneously, supposedly, but I did not understand either concept very thoroughly.) "And she will be the one to.aid your species." A twisted smile crept across his face, marring the handsome face into something much darker. "Tomorrow will be her testing date-a late birthday present, so to speak."  
  
"Aid our species? We're not in any trouble," I said, confused. "The last plagues we had was ages ago-and even that only made us stronger."  
  
"There is no plague coming for your species, Citali-at least not directly. The pale horseman has long since passed your culture by, but comes galloping back with a vengeance-but you have yet to meet the true face of your white horseman." His words sounded almost prophetic, and in an eerie instant I understood them-but the understanding slipped through my fingers like sand. "Do you know why your planet is getting increasingly colder each year, Citali?" he asked, his hand suddenly grasping my arm. His hands were extraordinarily cold, as if they were made from stone rather than flesh. I moved back slightly, my heart pounding in my chest. His eyes bore into mine, desperate, perhaps verging on insane. "Well? Do you?"  
  
"N-no.though we have noticed a temperature decrease."  
  
"No wonder. Your planet is freezing, Citali-but you do not notice this because you are used to the temperature, and I myself have adjusted. There is no ice because your plants are used to the temperature-and as for the water, its configuration is different than any other water I have ever seen. Your sun in the sky? It has run out of fuel, so to speak. I noticed this coming into your solar system, just before the oxygen began to run out. It is an enormous red giant-and it will not exist in this state for long. Do you want to know what will happen to your sun-to this solar system?" His voice was icily logical, and it made adrenaline flow through my veins in panic. I had neither the strength to nod or shake my head-it didn't matter, he answered his own question.  
  
"You need to know, Citali. You're the only one of the seers who is prepared for the new millennium-who is prepared for what will come! Your star will collapse, be it today, tomorrow or in a hundred years-but rest assured, it will collapse while your population is still around. But maybe this doesn't sound too bad to you-but it should. Oh, it should," he said, a slightly insane chuckle quavering his voice. "Your sun will supernova- explode with the force of millions, perhaps billions of dynamite. Your species, your planet, your solar system, perhaps even this part of your galaxy will be blasted into billions of pieces of space junk. Your sun is a ticking time bomb of an apocalypse-and the only way for your species to escape alive is to submit."  
  
"Submit.to what?"  
  
"You'll see, tomorrow," replied Frank in a low voice, his eyes dancing with excitement, "tomorrow, when the revolution begins!" The darkness seemed to engulf him now, swallowing the essence of the person I remembered-the light-hearted faerie who worked innocently with chemicals, prayed to his God, played the instrument called the cello. I pulled away from his grasp, backing up, fear tingling every sense in my body.  
  
"B-but.Elder Miltiades."  
  
"That old bag has no chance to survive. He has caught an interesting strain of pneumonia-neither viral nor bacteria, if that's even possible. Your planet certainly is strange, and I would desire more time on it if possible for research, but that is not possible. I cannot trust a planet that revolves around an explosive. The medicine I gave him is a type of cyanide-it will kill him peacefully, which is more than I can say about the pneumonia. Besides, without your leader, your species will be far easier to revolutionize."  
  
My mind twirled around inside of my head, unable to absorb all of this information at once. I reeled on my feet, almost losing my balance, cursing having to be a bipedal creature. I grasped the table nearest to me, trying to support myself. Frank reached out for me but I drew away like an injured animal. Although I did not completely comprehend all that had been spoken to me, I was sure of one thing-I felt completely and utterly betrayed. The fact that I had so deeply trusted Frank, even stood up for him against my father and had found myself falling for him only made the stab in the back all the more painful. Physical pain would've been less agonizing.  
  
"No.don't touch me," I muttered, my eyes unable to focus on anything at one time. "Don't.don't even lay your filthy hands on me!" I began in a soft voice, but my tone quickly escalated to a shrill shriek. "Liar!"  
  
"I'm no liar-did I ever tell you something that wasn't the truth?"  
  
"Y-you said that medicine would help Elder Miltiades! But.but you killed him! You really are a murderer!"  
  
"There's a difference between murder and putting someone to rest. The Grundo would've suffered a long and painful death, and I gave him a quick and painless one. Is it so wrong to be merciful?"  
  
"Don't pretend to be a saint, you scum!"  
  
"Fine, I won't. I'll tell you exactly what I plan to do, and what brought me to this. We're not all that different, Citali-in fact, we're really the same. Part of a species, yet utterly different in mentality, we are set apart. While you may have had a choice to live a pointless existence among Grundos who could never fully understand you, a never- ending purgatory at best. Yet me? No roads are opened to me-none! But one.one solitary option. If you cannot be loved, you will make them love you through fear. Fear is a power over everyone-all feel it.  
  
"Grundos which are not seers are about as bright as a rock. Not a very shiny rock at that, either, although the outward shell does not matter so much as far as intelligence spans. Those who cannot think for themselves must have others think for them-and for the past thousands of years, seers have been that mind. But another intelligent being could harness them- namely, me. They could be my minions, so to speak, those underneath me, who serve me. Slaves, perhaps, if you must put it in such harsh words, though I offer what slave owners do not: redemption, rescue from an imminent doom.  
  
"Yet Grundos would not make very effective shock troops, now would you? You're relatively weak-your limbs could not go under much stress. Yet this is where this beauty comes in. There is a way to surpass evolution, defy God, replace him and twist his pathetic creations to your demands; this is the contraption that will do such a thing." He crossed behind the machine and to a dark corner of the laboratory. "And allow me to introduce, Citali, the future of your species!" 


	5. Thunder

Author's Note: To anyone who is actually reading this: This chapter comes early because I'm leaving for about a week. I'll post the epilogue when I get back.  
  
With a swift jerk, he pulled away a blanket that covered a small box. A light flickered on from seemingly nowhere, spotlighting onto the box, which would more appropriately be described as a cage. Behind the steel cast bars of the cage stood a hulking creature. The attributes of a Grundo could be vaguely seen through the bars of a cage-the ear stalks, the red eyes, the three digits on each hand. Yet it was too big to be normal, muscular, even duller looking, looking more like a pack mule than an elegant Grundo. I felt my jaw drop and I did not care to lift it back up. The stupid, insolent creature gazed dumbly at me, blinking its red eyes.  
  
I drew back in horror, averting my eyes. "No.impossible!" I cried, shaking my head. "This can't be happening!"  
  
"Oh, but it can. But don't fret your pretty little starry head, Citali. You have been a great aid to me-letting me in on small things of seers, but significant nonetheless. One of the points being that they take a full day to mourn those lost-and tomorrow they will be mourning the loss of the Elder Miltiades, and oblivious to my actions outside until it is quite too late for them.  
  
"You will be spared from the existence of a soldier-besides, what's the point in wasting a brilliant mind? The other seers, however, cannot be said for the same-their resistance, which is quite predictable, will be dealt with accordingly-caging, perhaps forced transformation. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. At that time, anyway, I will have more than enough soldiers to deal with the comparably miniscule population of seers. And then, with this nicely designed, fully functional space station, I will bring your population away from this doomed universe and to others-many others, to bring planets into my grasp, a wonderful collection." He fingered the white collar he wore, and then pulled it out, snapping it in half, letting the pieces fall to the ground. "My period of priesthood is over-now, I am God!"  
  
"Manipulator! User! Dictator!" I shouted, unable to think of nastier words to call him, so repeating them over and over again. Tears streamed down my face without any conscious knowledge of them. Frank passed across the machine again and tenderly grasped my hand, and for a moment I could feel the man that had landed here months ago, and my heart leapt to my throat. His eyes looked so very confused, tragic, almost, asking for forgiveness in their own way.  
  
"This is the life I must lead-the path I must run down. I know I will never see Heaven-and so while I live, I will live life the way I will."  
  
"It could be different, Frank, so very different." I said softly, turning my eyes to the floor. "You didn't have to become this monster.you didn't have to do this. I don't want you to do this, this backstabbing and betrayal.you can't deny the conflict inside of you, the part that doesn't want to do this. The priest!"  
  
"The priest is dead. Besides, I know what you want, Citali, and it is something I could never offer-if I remained a priest, I am not allowed such luxuries. And even now, I cannot give you what you want, as much as I would like to-for my heart belongs to someone else."  
  
"But I love you!" I moved closer to him, my body insistent, giving into core instincts. Frank held me back calmly, however, his grip firm.  
  
"You can't." Once again, I found myself crushed under an unbearable weight, slowly pounding down on me. The rejection felt as if nothing in this world could possibly be worse, compiled with the awful knowledge of what was to become of my species, looming over me like a great dark vulture, spreading its wings and circling above me, waiting for me to come to terms with the realization so that it may swoop down and scrape up what remained of me.  
  
And the wave of sadness was replaced quickly with a rage boiling deep within me, stirring in my stomach and slowly flowing throughout my body. I did not want to harm him, yet at the same time I wanted to choke the life out of him, watch him die as he struggled in my hands. But as I could not bring myself to do such a murderous feat, I could only draw back more, my fists clenched along with my jaw. I spoke in between gasps of angry breaths, my eyes narrowed dangerously. "Then we were really nothing more to you.nothing but shock troops waiting to happen? We sheltered you, healed you-and you give us back nothing! I'm sure we would all rather die on this planet then be enslaved by the likes of you! You're nothing more than a fraud!"  
  
"And after all the kindness I expressed towards you," he said, shaking his head. "Still, you are a friend after all-if not cooperating well. You will see that there is little other way than mine. Perhaps I will just have to show it to you in a more effective way-in the downfall of your people."  
  
"Never! I'll warn them! I'll-"  
  
My mouth was suddenly covered by a thick hand, muffling my speech, nearly cutting off my oxygen as it covered my nose as well. My body was lifted from the ground, my feet dangling. "Ah, Jaidev, excellent timing," commented Frank, and my mind was immediately conscious to the fact that the hand that held me looked stunningly like a Grundo's, though significantly larger. I realized in horror that he had had me trapped all along-one behind me, just in case I refused to cooperate. I struggled against the Grundo, even bit into his hand, but nothing even phased him slightly. I gave up in my struggle, and was quickly transferred to a cage opposite the other Grundo, drooling slightly in his stupidity.  
  
Frank peered at me through the bars, grasping one and leaning on it. He smiled slightly, shaking his head pityingly. "You never did understand, did you, Citali? My motives were almost always constant, heading in this direction. I thought you would be smarter than that-I thought you were just going along with me. I suppose I was wrong."  
  
"Betrayer," was all I could mutter, glaring at him between the prison's bars.  
  
"I believe the human called Julius Caesar stated it best, dear Citali: Veni, vidi, vici. I came, I saw.I conquered."  
  
With those final words, he turned away from the cage and did not look back, turning off the lights in the laboratory. Miserably, I curled into a ball on the small, cold metal floor of the cage, weeping silently to myself. Through the door came the faint wail of a cello sonata, its tone increasing and then fading to nothing, the sound of an instrument dropping with a crash, never to emit beautiful music again.  
  
I closed my eyes.  
  
There was no sunlight that awoke me, nothing to gradually have me awaken into a peaceful little notch in my own bed. For I wasn't in my own bed, and I wasn't in my own house-I was on the bottom of a cell, a prisoner to the one I thought I had loved. Sunlight was not what awoke me, but instead the stirrings of another life form in the laboratory-Frank, of course. I pretended as if I were still asleep, but my cage got moved nonetheless-and that made it more difficult to keep up my charade, though I managed.  
  
When I dared to open my eyes, I was still being carried along, though something had been thrown over the cage to obstruct my view of anything. With one finger, I poked at the bottom of the sheet and lifted it up a tad, peeking out. I was being carried by one of those 'evolved' Grundos so to speak, heading towards the village. I could see many villagers stirring about, already joining Frank as he strode along, but not a single seer. As Frank predicted, they would all be inside of the Great Hall, mourning the loss of Elder Miltiades. I cursed mentally. I tried to shout out, but found my vocal chords failing me-with a start, I discovered I could make little more than pathetic squeaks. Someone had tampered with my vocal chords during the night, rendering me silent. It would be too difficult to throw off the sheet as well-it was made from a considerably heavy material. I was trapped like a fox cornered by bellowing hounds. My ear stalks lowered in dismay. I could only wait it out.  
  
Finally, my cage was placed down on something solid. There was the sound of thousands of congregating Grundos outside, most likely a crowd of them, massive. They had little else to do during days the seers weren't around to guide them through the actions of every day living. I heard someone clear his voice (Frank) and begin to speak in a loud, commanding voice. It was the voice of a man aiming to take over a population through persuasion, and considering the intelligence of the Grundo villagers, it wouldn't be all that strenuous. Plus, they wouldn't be able to understand what he was saying, and would probably merely dumbly agree.  
  
"Grundo citizens! It has come to my attention that your population is at risk! For up within the sky, even this very morning, I can clearly see the omen of your doom! Yes, comrades, it is your sun, playing the part of a savior, while it indeed is a devil! Soon, very soon, it will decide to wipe our your population with little other thought, destroying such brilliant life needlessly!" Gasps, as if on cue, were emitted from the audience. If it hadn't been so serious, I would've rolled my eyes.  
  
"But I have come with the answer to this problem! I cannot say that I will reverse the effects of what will happen to your murderous sun, but I can offer you refuge from this doomed planet!" he cried. I imagined him gesticulating his hands in the air, mostly as a distraction to impress the mindless Grundos. Desperate, I tried to lift the blanket, but found that my strength could not manage such a feat-my limbs seemed hopelessly weak. Probably more tampering. "Comrades, your next stage of evolution is upon you! Do not reject the inevitable-come with me into space, to rule another world! And this will be the contraption to allow you all to come with me!"  
  
There was the sound of a dramatic sweeping-away of a cover, and then gasps as needed. They were most likely terribly confused at this point, but pretending as if they understood every word. "My comrades! File a line at this point, and find your way into the future!" he hollered, and I could hear the shifting of feet doing just as he told. I wanted to yell out and protest, to jump in front of the first Grundo in line and tell him the truth behind their savior-a demon in the shape of a figure of salvation! But my lips could only mouth the words-nothing came out. Dejected, I fell back to the floor of the cage, feeling utterly defeated.  
  
I did not want to hear what occurred next, but I could sense what was happening nonetheless. The horrible zapping sound shuddered my bones, but the Grundos did not make any noise to signify alarm. Sound after sound came, followed by cheers from the stupidity of the Grundos, oblivious to what was truly happening behind the curtain. I knew that they would be perfectly lined up, not wanting to displease their temporary leader, like cows going to a slaughterhouse. I grasped at my ear stalks, trying to drown out the noise. Tears shed from my eyes dripped to the bottom of the cage as the cheers afterwards grew few and far apart, signifying an almost total mutation of my species.  
  
It couldn't be happening. I didn't want to believe that this was, in fact, reality-but it was. No dream could be as real-no nightmare could be as frightening. The tears would not stop-no longer of selfish, foolish childish desires of 'love,' but at the destruction of my species, their imminent apocalypse. In the distance, I could hear the surprised cries of seers, and how I wanted to warn them! I opened my mouth and screamed soundless cries to warn them, but all in vain. The angry voice of my father could be heard, and I pictured him as I remembered last seeing him: disturbed, angry, for that was probably his expression at that moment.  
  
"You monster! First you interrupt our day of mourning, and now look what you have done to our species! You have bastardized them all!" he cried. I so wanted to lift the blanket, and I tried and tried again, but to little avail. Again, I tried crying out, and for the first time a small little squeak could be emitted. It was hardly audible, but I worked harder on it as my father spoke in a violent tone. "We always knew your motives were nasty-and yet we still sheltered you, healed you, hoping that you would change your mind! Yet you still decide to deplete our race to only us! And what have you done with my child?!"  
  
"Don't be so hostile, father of Citali. Besides, shouldn't you be glad to get rid of the bottom of the barrel of your race? The ignorant ones, those that can barely talk? Survival of the fittest-and now what remains of your race truly is what deserves to be left.left behind in a dying solar system, unless you decide to join your brothers in captivity. And Citali is fine, rest assured. I wouldn't harm a friend."  
  
"Father!" I managed to cry out, my voice sounding very close to nails on a chalkboard.  
  
"Citali?" came his voice, panicked yet relieved at the same time.  
  
"Here!" I batted at the blanket pitifully, not sure what else to do. I could hear my father stepping towards the cage I was held captive in, then another set of footsteps intercepting him.  
  
"Don't waste your time, old man. Will you try and save your daughter over the remainder of your species?"  
  
"If you have even a shred of decency left, you will at least let me see my daughter!" retorted my father, the anger in his voice felt in myself. There was a pause, and then the blanket lifted, much to my thanks, allowing precious sunlight in between the cage bars. It blinded me temporarily, but as I blinked my eyes rapidly, I could make out the vague shape of my father. I lunged towards the bars, reaching out towards the figure I could make out.  
  
"Daddy!" I wailed, as if I were a mere Grundo toddler, tears streaking my face. I could feel my father's face next to mine before I could see it. "Forgive me, daddy, forgive me," I wept, gasps of air coming in heaving gulps, leaning my face into his. His gentle hands touched my face, wiping away the tears neatly like he did when I was an infant. He did not say anything, but his presence alone was enough to bring at least a slight amount of solace to my heart. "I was wrong.I was wrong!" I admitted, feeling totally dependant on him alone.  
  
"Enough of this melodrama. I have little time for sympathies-for all I know, your sun has already exploded and we only haven't noticed yet because the light hasn't reached here." Frank's voice was bitter, but something about it made me feel as if there was something inside of him protesting his actions, his voice faltering for a moment, and then regaining its composure. "Now make your decision, seer-will you doom the remainder of your precious species or will you live to see another day?"  
  
My father was quiet, looking from Frank and back to me. I grazed his cheek with my fingers, swallowing back the tears so as I could talk, although my voice was still extremely weak. "Daddy.stay here.you can't go with him, see those creatures? That is what you'll become.you can't do that to our species. Stay here, please? I want to stay here. Maybe he's wrong about the sun."  
  
"What about the sun?"  
  
"He says it's going to explode, sooner or later. Maybe it's all a lie, all a lie to trick us to go with him.he's lied before," I finished, my voice suddenly turning into one thick with unfiltered hatred. What once held passion for Frank now held nothing but pure malice-I would gladly kill him myself if given half the chance. "Why should we trust him now?" My father nodding, seeming to understand what I was saying. He turned back to Frank, whose expression of confidence seemed more like a mask than one of reality. For some reason, it made me think he was just as scared as we were.  
  
"I honor my daughter's words. The remainder of the seers will stay here on this planet. Please release my daughter so that she may do the same," ordered my father, his face dead serious.  
  
"I will do as you ask, considering if you give me three things."  
  
"You already have the majority of our population enslaved. What more could you request from us?"  
  
"Do not defy me, Aditya, or I will have your own species that formerly listened to only your kind kill you in an odd poetic irony. These three things will be delivered before I leave you-two more of your seers for my own doings, and.Citali as my prisoner."  
  
There were shouts of protest among the seers, the community anger in the ground at a peak. My father still had a quite reasonable look on his face. "No deal. You will release Citali, though we will give you the two requested seers." The seers, surprisingly, had not a single objection to this, their faces once again calming down. Frank raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Haggling with the white horseman? I thought that was the black's job," sneered Frank. "In any matter, I accept your terms. I will release Citali once you give me the two suitable seers." The seers all seemed to agree, and my father rejoined the group as they discussed who should go, looks of anxiety on each of their faces, wondering if they would be deemed the one to go. It was clear they would rather die a death on their own planet than one aboard Frank's spaceship. The discussion went on for about ten minutes, Frank waiting patiently, until finally they came to a decision. Standing straight, my father turned to Frank.  
  
"Myself and Prakash have volunteered," he replied, his voice low, almost as if he were choking on his words. Prakash separated himself from the crowd, his white hide stunning against the bleak backdrop.  
  
My hopes shattered against the ground. Even if I were to go free, without my father I would absolutely die. And Prakash.? Oh God, not Prakash. I remembered playing with him as a child, his sweet innocence, cute little smile, even if he happened to be one of the duller crayons in the seer box. I pounded against the bars, furious at the decision. "No! No!" I cried, shaking my head furiously. "Daddy, don't! Prakash-"  
  
"Quiet, Citali. Everything will be just fine," replied my father, although his expression displayed was one of petrified terror. Prakash gave a longing look towards the cage I was encased in, but did not say anything. He was Prakash, after all-speaking was not something he did well. He held open his arms, almost in a gesture of peace. "Do what you will, Father Sloth," he mocked, spite in the word father.  
  
"Doctor, Aditya," corrected Frank, turning his machine so that it faced both Prakash and my father, its barrel glaring down at them. "Doctor."  
  
With the single press of a button, the machine gave off that horrible sizzling sound that resembled 'zap,' though was unique in its own terrible way. A great green ray of light exploded from the barrel of the machine, racing straight towards my father and Prakash. I screamed, but I could barely hear myself over the noisy humming of the machine. I could not watch the ghastly transformation from normal to not-I turned my face away, covering it with one of my hands, feeling my tears soaking my hand. The tears seemed to be of an unlimited supply, unable to be ceased even by the strongest dam. I was choking on my own sorrow as I forced myself to look back-only to look away again. I could not bear the sight of the two beings I respected and cared for suddenly turned into mutants beyond recognition. I could only cry, and find a never-ending supply of self-pity.  
  
"And so your debt is paid, Grundos-but I do not wish to separate with Citali. And so.I won't." A shock ran through my body at those words. A few days prior I would've been ecstatic to hear those words-but now they rang in my mind like bells at a funeral. My eyes snapped towards Frank, widening to enormous sizes. He had the nerve to take away two people who had cared for me, who I cared for-and then not even live up to his promise? I grasped the bars of the cage heatedly, desiring the strength to bend them and walk through to physically threaten Frank.  
  
"You.you.son of a-you take away my father, you take away almost my entire species for your own selfish plans-and then.then you can't even keep up a bargain? You're.worse than a monster. You're." Words failed me. I could not think of a swear worse enough to describe what I felt towards him at the moment. The fury burned in my chest, an unquenchable fire. It was an abhorrence as I had never felt-I never thought it possible to hate someone just that much. "I hate you," was all that I could manage, my teeth clenched together, unable to be separated.  
  
"Unfortunate," said Frank with a shrug. "For if you will not cooperate, you will merely be a prisoner to me-nothing more."  
  
"I will never work for you, or with you."  
  
"Choices is what the world is based on, my dear Citali. And if that is your choice, I respect it.my prisoner," he said, his voice quiet. There was regret in his eyes, if ever so small, but I could have no feelings for him at that moment. There was no sympathy I could offer a man who made entire species succumb to him, who let the rest who refused to come die. I could not look at him-I could not look at what remained of my father and Prakash. I did not want to look at anything, to come to terms with what was happening. I wanted to curl up and die on that prison floor-and all I could manage to do was curl up, shutting myself off to the world as my prison was lifted from the ground towards Frank's spaceship.  
  
And that was how it ended, my affair on my precious home planet. I did not get to see whether the sun exploded or not-I did not get to even watch as we retreated from the planet, the homely orb shrinking into a point of light in the distance. And at that time, I did not want to-I wanted to forget that there was ever life on any planet, including myself; I wanted to be nothing, to shrink into oblivion. I wished and hoped that, perhaps, Frank would take a wrong turn and we would be sucked into a void to die, being crunched and squeezed into spaghetti. But my prayers would not be answered-for everything went as Frank had so cunningly planned. 


	6. Epilogue

I never had the privilege (or curse?) of seeing my father or Prakash again, and honestly, I didn't want to. I wanted to remember them as they were, cradled so delicately in my memory: the father who aided me through difficult times in life, who soothed me as a child, who rocked me gently when my mother died as an infant. I wanted to remember my playmate at the Great Hall, the one who accidentally threw sand in my eyes and made me cry, only to hug me to make me feel better. In fact, I have not seen sunlight in the past.thousand.?.two thousand.?.years.  
  
I do not know the time-I do not know the date. I only know that I should have been dead a long time ago. And yet here I lie, still regretting the past in this filthy cage, unable to escape what happened millennias ago, fed every day through a shoot, isolated from any kind of life form. My joints are stiff-I am arthritic, and it is painful for me to move. Citali, the brightest star, has dimmed considerably. Yet I force myself to do so-I cannot let go, not just yet. For just recently I have discovered something that very well might be my redemption.  
  
I did not notice, but something had been left in my cell. One would think after thousands of years of captivity, I would have searched every crevice of the cage. But apparently, this is not the case. Just a few weeks ago (or so I estimate, for I stopped keeping track of what I believed to be days long ago), I found something on the floor of the cell that I had not noticed before. It was definitely old-perhaps older than myself. And I recognized it as well-it was gold, a looped chain with a small charm on the end of it in a lowercase letter t. I rub it down, tracing my fingers over the words engraved that I can hardly read. I know what they say, but I read them over again, just to fully understand their meaning.  
  
Forgive, and you will be forgiven.  
  
I had always blamed myself for everything that had occurred on that planet, and I do to this day. But as I trace over these words, these words of another religion, a religion that boasted a priest that spelled the destruction of our species as we knew it, I find new meaning in them, a meaning that swells throughout my whole body, old and ragged as it is, neglected and untended to for years. I rub the cold metal against my face, smelling its essence.remembering, always remembering. Remembering the swell of the cello's music, resounding through my ears like a tape on repeat, soothing yet grating at the same time, healing yet destructive.  
  
"Forgive, and you will be forgiven."  
  
I can see his face now, as I remember it, smiling slightly, kindly. I still cannot believe there was such potential for evil behind those eyes, despite their crimson color. It pains me within to come to grips with what happened-with what he did. For the past thousands of years, I could not find it within myself to even think of him directly, let alone forgive his disastrous, monstrous actions. Yet now I find myself dwelling on him even more, just stroking the emblem as if it were the ear stalk of an unknown lover.  
  
Maybe.maybe if I can find it within myself to forgive him, to forget his actions and give him a clean slate on my plate.maybe.I can find it within myself.to find the same forgiveness for myself.  
  
"Forgive, and you will be forgiven."  
  
I'm sorry, Father. I'm sorry, Prakash. I love you both so very much, more than you could ever imagine. Your sacrifice was more than I could ever ask for.  
  
"Forgive, and you will be forgiven."  
  
And maybe, if I can find this forgiveness, I can find the strength to break the bars of this cage, to escape my prison both internally and externally, freeing myself and walking forth to my people. Maybe our god, the god that looks over the Grundos, will give me the power to break through the chains that have been permanently bound to my species, to bring forth a rebellion, and cry that wonderful cry that was once uttered by another priest, ironically enough:  
  
"Viva la revolution!"  
  
And maybe, when I see him fall at the red horseman's hand, at my hand, I will finally be able to say it to his face, petrified as his former slaves loom over him, knowing that his death, his ultimate downfall, is at hand, knowing that the white horseman had been knocked from his steed by the sword of the red, and has come face to face with justice. Maybe, just maybe, I would be able to say it before finishing off his life once and for all, in the name of my people, with a sad smile displayed on my face, the same smile that he had given to me so many times before.  
  
"I forgive you, Frank Sloth. And I love you." 


End file.
